Recreation's Diversion
by Desertfyre
Summary: Takes place shortly after 1.17 HellHouse. The prank wars have been going on for as long as both have remembered, but what if this prank set a chain of events that went too far? Would this be the end of the prank wars?
1. 100 miles past

Disclaimer: Don't own the Winchesters and don't own Bobby. We all know who does, do I really have to go through this again?

A.N: I can't take credit for the general plot/idea of this story. Hotshow threw this idea at me and I ran with it. So I give credit to him. I just strung together the ideas that I was given and produced this.

Hey, at least this makes the first s1 SPN story I've done. Hooray! I still have another idea for a S1 fanfic, but it hadn't hit me fully enough to write it, you know?

And one of these rare time when coming up with a title was hard. Multi-chapter story that's finished as usual, just give me time to upload.

Summary: Takes place shortly after 1.17 HellHouse. The prank wars have been going on for as long as both have remembered, but what if this prank set a chain of events that went too far? Would this be the end of the prank wars?

* * *

><p>Chapter 1: 100 miles past<p>

A bark of laughter resounded in the Impala as it ate away the pavement. For once the classic rock music, or if you let Sam tell it classic rocking noise, was turned down so Sam heard his brother's laugh.

With a small smile he looked over at Dean whose mirth was making him chuckle. "What's so funny?"

"Hey, what do you think the idiotic duo will think once they realized that it was a flop?" Dean asked chuckling, "I'm sorry.." he hit the steering wheel, "…but I keep thinking about it. They tried to play it so cool, but I know they were excited."

"I kinda….feel a little bad." Sam admitted.

Dean glanced at Sam with a small frown, "Why? I don't."

"I know you don't. Says the one who put a fish in their backseat somewhere amidst all that junk", Sam started laughing.

Dean joined in. "What? It's a classic!"

Sam gave a sly grin, "Only because it's not in your car."

Dean frowned and glared at Sam, "Sam, there are some things that are funny….there are others that are just downright cruel. I swear, if you ever pulled such a prank, I promise you….I will kill you. And you and I both know I can do it too."

Sam laughed unfazed, but knowing he would never do such a thing. "Bring it down, Dean. You have no worries. I do not want to unleash your wrath."

Dean brightened quickly and grinned, "Let's keep it that way. Now, where do we turn off? We need to sleep."

"If you want, I can take over. I'm good", Sam offered.

Dean glared at Sam once more, "I said, we, Sam. Don't get this twisted. I know you still haven't been sleeping."

Sam looked out the passenger window with his classic brooding and frowning, "Dean, I don't want to have this discussion again."

"Then tell me, where we turn off and we won't" Dean shot back.

Sam muttered under his breath and rechecked the map. "It's about three miles from here."

"Great!"

* * *

><p>The Impala slowly entered their newest dump for the night.<p>

What?

They all were, honestly.

Sam was still in a brooding mode and Dean hadn't said anything yet. He pulled into a parking spot and cut off the ignition. He stared at the steering wheel a while before glancing at Sam who had yet to say anything except to confirm that he was pulling off on the right road.

"You okay?" Dean asked after a moment.

"Are you going to go get the keys or do you want me to?" Sam asked avoiding the question.

"I'll go", Dean murmured before getting out of the car and walking to the office.

Sam looked up at his brother's disappearing figure. He didn't mean to still be in a foul mood and he knew that Dean was only trying to help him but it was still a touchy subject for Sam. Sure, he got much more sleep then he did a few months ago but still it was not like it should be. Dean was just watching out for him, he really should try to curb the temper for when it was warranted.

Dean came back out with the key and got in. He didn't say anything as he pulled the car around to the front of their room.

"Look, Dean. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to bring the house down", Sam spoke up as Dean finished parking.

"No, I'm sorry. I don't want to keep bringing it up, it's just…."

"I know", Sam smiled lightly looking at his brother for the first time in the past half hour.

Dean studied Sam a few moments before he nodded and smirked back.

"Great, now, let's get inside. I need to get horizontal." Dean got of the car.

Sam followed suit and said giving Dean an olive branch on that subject, "Yeah, I should attempt it as well."

Dean just gave a light smile as they gathered their bags and went into their room to start setting up for the night.

"You go ahead and get first bath, Sam but look here, don't take all day and half the night and save some hot water for me!" Dean said as he plopped down on the edge of the bed.

Sam spun around, "What's this? You are letting me get in first?" he mocked astonished.

"Shut. Up." Dean growled as he turned his back towards Sam laying down on the bed.

"You aren't sick or anything, are you?" Sam pressed as he gathered his stuff to go into the bathroom.

"Do not make me get up, Sam." Dean tossed over his shoulder.

"Going, going….."Sam sung as he darted into the bathroom and shut the door.

"I swear, one day I'm gonna murder him", Dean muttered to himself fondly as he eyed the room lazily. His eyes came to the gun bag.

The guns were due for cleaning in fact a few days over and if Dad was here, Dean knew that he would have a fit. He sighed. He guessed he could start on cleaning them. Maybe it would be relaxing enough for him to finish them all tonight.

So with a sigh, he got up and got started. While he was doing so, his mind wandered thinking about everything and nothing, really.

Then it came to him. Hey, it was after 100 miles that meant that the prank wars could resume. And suddenly, Dean was grinning like a Chester cat. He had to think of something good. It had to be a good start to resuming the infamous wars.

Something a little better than dying Sam's underwear pink.

He laughed to himself.

Yeah, that was one of the first pranks he pulled when they started the wars. Boy, was Sam hacked off when he saw that.

Dean admits he almost got murdered for that one.

Thankfully, John Winchester was there, so he kept them apart for awhile until Sam was able to cool off. Well, until Dean woke up the next morning and found his entire face buried in shaving cream. After Dean had fallen asleep, and was snoring, Sam had placed shaving cream on one of his pillows. So you can imagine, him sleeping on his side, turns over and buries is face in what he thought was a really soft pillow.

And he didn't even wake up then. It wasn't until morning when he started drifting into conscious and realized that he was sticky all over just about.

No wonder he was dreaming about a sexy hot blond chick with whip cream and it seemed so real.

Sam at that point had been downstairs in their rundown house and was out the door as John jumped as Dean yelled and came running down the stairs looking like a snowman.

Now, Dean could laugh about it. He admits now, it was a worthy prank. Over the years, they always tried to outdo the other.

So that brought us to this current situation of Dean needing a good prank to resume this prank war. He sighed. He wished he could have something to surprise Sam when he got out of the shower. His eyes rolled around until they landed on the gun he was cleaning.

He just stared at the gun he was cleaning.

Gotta be something in this.

His eyes caught the bag at his feet and then it came to him.

**TBC….**


	2. All the whatifs…

Disclaimer: Don't own the Winchesters and don't own Bobby. We all know who does, do I really have to go through this again?

A.N: Enjoy.

Summary: Takes place shortly after 1.17 HellHouse. The prank wars have been going on for as long as both have remembered, but what if this prank set a chain of events that went too far? Would this be the end of the prank wars?

* * *

><p>Chapter 2: All the what-ifs…<p>

Sam sighed as he got dressed. That shower really did wonders for his mood. He was tempted to stay in longer, but he knew that Dean would not be pleased. One thing he hated about these motels, you never knew when the hot water would quit working, hence the need for speed concerning showers.

Didn't really give a lot of time to soak and enjoy much to Sam disappointment from time to time.

Like now for example, but still it was a good shower that did wonders.

With a small content sigh, he opened the door and stepped out letting the steam flow out with him. He was only halfway to the bed when he looked over to where, Dean was standing. Sam quickly noticed that Dean was cleaning the guns.

"Hey, done….." and before he could finish, he was tripping over the bag at this feet.

Sam felt his heart speed up as he watch Dean fall. He knew he couldn't catch him but he did dart over to kneel next to Dean who managed to break his fall having almost face planted straight into the floor.

"Dean! Hey, you okay?" He asked worriedly as he clutched his older brother's shoulders, which was shaking. "Hey, man. Where are you hurt?"

And suddenly, Sam was bewildered as he sat back on his haunches as Dean flipped over and laughed.

"The heck?" Sam muttered. He was trying to figure out of Dean finally lost it.

"Oh, you should have seen your face! That was epic!" Dean chocked out.

"Huh?" Sam grunted out, just losing it momentarily.

"It was a prank, Sam!" Dean laughed, rolling his eyes as he stood up, the gun hanging loosely in his hands.

"What?" Sam managed to get out.

Dean stood up. "Don't hate, Sam, just cause I got you."

That good mood that Sam developed taking a shower just went up in smoke as he stood and growled, "Are you out of your mind?"

Dean set the gun down and proceeded to gather his stuff for his shower. He just rolled his eyes.

"Dean, anything could have gone wrong! I thought you seriously hurt yourself! And I knew that gun was probably empty cause you were cleaning it, but what if it had been loaded when you pulled that stunt, huh?"

Dean paused on his way to his shower. He hadn't thought of that, but he knew that it wasn't empty. He wouldn't have played with a loaded gun like that. "I knew it wasn't loaded", he said.

"But I could have not known it!" Sam cried, "I figured it wasn't, cause I saw that you were cleaning it, so I figured it wasn't loaded, hence it didn't faze me. But it could have and you should have shot me. Heck, you could have shot yourself!"

That picture flashed in Dean's mind making him thoroughly regret the whole prank. He swallowed hard. "Sam…."

Sam growled and walked over to his bed, slapping Dean upside the head as he passed. "Don't tell me we need to take you back to safety school!" he muttered as he flopped down on his bed.

"Sam…." Dean spoke softly.

"Go get a bath, Dean. The water is probably getting cold, now." Sam interrupted before Dean could finish.

Dean paused before turning and slowly entering the bathroom. He didn't care about the cold water anymore. All he could think about was what-if scenarios.

Granted, he knew that the gun wasn't loaded, and it never would have been, but he could see clearly now what could have been going through Sam's mind. He scared him badly.

He swallowed again, suddenly hating himself.

How could he be so stupid?

Sam was right. Did he need to go back to safety school or something? He should have never pulled such a stunt, especially with a gun.

And more importantly he couldn't seem to stop the images of what-if that gun had been loaded.

He knew it never would have been, but his mind and conscious still tortured him with the vivid images.

He got his shower absently and before he knew it he was sitting on his bed facing Sam who had his back to him. Understandably, Sam was still mad at him. Dean as mad at himself.

"Sam…." He waited and when he didn't get a response or interruption, he continued, "I'm sorry. I didn't think it through. It was supposed to harmless, but I didn't mean to go that far."

There was a moment of silence that followed.

"I know, Dean. I know it was just a joke, but like you said, some things are funny, others are just downright cruel. Take a pick at which one I consider it to be."

If possible, Dean shrunk into himself, feeling duly chastised.

Sam turned over on his back and looked at Dean. "Don't worry yourself about it." He smiled crookedly, "It's all good."

"No, it isn't. Like you said, that was just downright cruel." Dean snapped angry at himself. He wished he never thought about pranking tonight. Obviously, he had been tired, and had not thought things through, though that was no excuse.

Sam propped himself on his elbow looking at Dean, "Dean, let it go. We have bigger things to think about and better things then this to argue about, if we just got to argue about something."

"I'll try." Dean spoke softly.

Sam gave a gentle smile, "I'm not mad. I was just a little worried, that's all. I just thinking of all the what-ifs, you know?"

Dean nodded slowly, "Yeah, I do. I keep thinking about them too."

It was left at that as they each slowly drifted off to bed and sleep, each dreaming about those what-ifs. The next morning was a bit….strained. Dean seemed to act real delicate as if he was walking on eggshells. Sam tried to coax him out of it, but Dean firmly seemed to be into this walk on eggshells mode, so Sam let him be.

It wasn't until half the day had gone by and they were riding down the road did Sam say something.

"Dean, really. Let this go! I'm not mad, I told you this, the other night."

Dean sighed. "Sam, I know that."

"Then why are you still acting like we are on fragile ice or something?"

"Cause, I'm mad at myself!" Dean cried.

Sam looked at Dean as they road down the back alley highway.

"I just keep kicking myself cause I was so stupid! I mean, really! It was stupid!"

"Most of our pranks are", Sam added.

"But they were never life-threatening like the stunt I pulled last night."

"Neither was that one. We both knew that it was empty."

"But it could have been loaded."

"Like you would have allowed that."

"That's not the point!", Dean slammed his hand on the steering wheel, "The fact of the matter is, we were taught early on about gun safety and I completely disregarded that. Guns aren't toys they are weapons."

"So what about a toy gun? I assume that's a toy?" Sam interjected with a smirk, trying to lighten up the mood.

Dean wasn't having it as he glared at Sam whose smirk fell and he muttered an apology.

"This is serious, Sam."

"I know that, but it's over and done. Let it go." Sam spoke quietly.

Dean found it hard to do so.

* * *

><p>"You haven't finished cleaning the guns", Sam noted as they were doing their annual systems check, making sure that their weapons and all of that were in pristine condition as they settled in their motel of the night.<p>

"I know", Dean spoke as he was checking another bag, "We are getting low on salt."

"Dean." Sam straightened from the weapon bag he was bending over.

"What, Sammy?" Dean asked glancing over his shoulder at Sam.

"Are you going to clean the guns? If not, I will. We need to keep a check on that, you know that."

"I know." Dean spoke softly.

Sam looked understandingly, "Dean, it's okay. You don't have to sudden be afraid of guns. Besides, it's not going to help us if you are. Come on, clean them. Or I will."

"No, I will", Dean stated. It was getting ridiculous that he was so wary of them now. But he couldn't help it.

As long as he has handled guns he never once thought of the images that flooded his sleep last night. Never.

Images of Sam hurt or worse by his own hand, still plagued his waking hours. It made him wary of going near them. The images were still too fresh.

"Look, why don't you clean the guns and I go get us some salt, okay?" Sam offered. Maybe it would be easier for Dean to clean them if he was out of the room. Less for Dean to deal with, but he did need to deal with this. Sam waited patiently for an answer to his suggestion.

He got one when Dean slowly nodded his head. "Okay."

"Great!" Sam brightened before snatching up the keys to the Impala and walking out the door.

Dean stood staring at the bag for a long while before he finally tentative started to unload the weapons so he could began to clean them. He handled them as if he didn't even want to touch them as he pulled them out of the bag.

Then he sat down back to the door, with a grimace he managed to pick up one hadn't cleaned and began to clean. Slowly, he unwound and found that it wasn't so bad.

He almost laughed at himself. What had he expect it to do?

Shoot on its own?

Though, it would be Winchester luck for them to have a possessed gun in their procession. Dean shook his head in wonder at his thoughts.

Sam was right. He really needed to let this go.

He was so deep into this thoughts, he didn't hear the door open. Nor did he hear his name being called.

But he did hear the gunshot that went off a moment later and felt his face twist into a horrified expression.

**TBC….**


	3. It shouldn't have happened

Disclaimer: Don't own the Winchesters and don't own Bobby. We all know who does, do I really have to go through this again?

A.N: Nothing to say.

Summary: Takes place shortly after 1.17 HellHouse. The prank wars have been going on for as long as both have remembered, but what if this prank set a chain of events that went too far? Would this be the end of the prank wars?

* * *

><p>Chapter 3: It shouldn't have happened<p>

Sam cut off the ignition and stepped out the car. He fished the huge sack of salt before closing the door. He hoped that this helped Dean to get over this little fear he had developed. He fumbled and managed to open their motel door and called Dean's name.

There was no response. He peaked around his sack of salt and gave a sigh before he set the salt next to the door. Dean sat his back to him absently cleaning the gun.

Rolling his eyes, Sam walked over and touched his brother's shoulder. The next thing he knew was that Dean near jumped a foot in the air as he spun around. And that's when he heard the shot and felt the splicing pain in his side.

He winced and slowly glanced down in shock. He looked back up at his older brother's horrified expression.

Sam blinked before he doubled over and clutched his side. That was what spurred Dean into action. Quickly, he led Sam to sit on the bed and began to peel off Sam's hoodie he was wearing.

"Dean, Dean…I'm fine. Just a scratch", Sam grunted out.

Dean didn't say anything as he peeled the hoodie off and managed to get Sam's hands away from his side to look at the wound. He carefully pulled up Sam's shirt with trembling hands. He studied the wound. It was only a flesh wound, but he was sure it hurt quite a bit. He was sure the hoodie is what helped divert the bullet. Dean swallowed hard and glanced around. He saw the bullet had just barely missed going out the window and was lodged in the wall between the door and the window.

"Dean, you okay man?" Sam asked.

Dean's head snapped back to his little brother and he wanted to laugh hysterically as he looked up at Sam who looked at him worried. Sam was the one with the wound and he was asking Dean if he was okay?

Was there any part of that, that made a lick of sense?

Dean certainly didn't think so.

"I should be asking you that", came Dean's voice husky and disused.

Sam gave a chuckle as he unconsciously tried to rock away the pain, "Well, I've been worse. How about a drink or something?"

"Not funny, Sam", came Dean's pained voice as he stood up and rushed around to gather what he needed.

He pressed a damp towel to Sam's side making him hissed. It took a moment before Sam could move again enough to hold it to his side.

"I'll have to clean and stitch it", Dean spoke as he proceeded to thread a needle. He then sat that aside for a moment and picked up a couple of thick cottons and poured alcohol on them. He paused as he glanced up at Sam who was looking a little pale, "Are you sure you don't need a hospital?"

Sam grunted out as he pealed the towel back, "Heck no, just hurry up so I can get something in my system to knock me the heck out."

Dean was still in shock as he proceeded to clean Sam's side almost jumping away from him every time Sam hissed. With trembling hands, he picked up the needle loath to do this. He stared hard at the needle before he's eyes glued on the wound that wasn't bleeding like a stuck pig anymore but still looked raw and ugly.

"Dean….hey, hey, hey, look at me." Sam spoke.

Dean managed to lift his head almost automatically but couldn't tear his eyes away from the wound.

"Up here, Dean."

Dean's eyes bounced to Sam's face.

"Good, now, calm down for half a second. Breathe. Deep breath okay." Sam breathed deep as he could and hit Dean on the shoulder instructing him to follow which his older brother did. Then he said with a small nod, "Now, it was an accident. Could have happened to anyone, okay? Go over there and get that bottle of Jack and take a sip."

"Sam…"

"Get the bottle of jack and take a sip", Sam repeated.

Not wanting to upset Sam, Dean did what he was told and took a long sip. He felt the cool, rough liquid pooling down his throat, dulling some of his senses enough to steady his nerves.

"Good, now give me a sip", Sam ordered.

"I don't think we should…."

"I said a sip, Dean. I didn't say the entire bottle", Sam snapped and Dean gave him the bottle. Trembling a little Sam took a sip.

"Okay, good. Now, let's finish this."

It took about 10 minutes to stitch Sam up, which was actually twice as long as it should have taken. Finally, to both their pleasure, Dean was able to give Sam some medicine to knock him out and help dull the pain. When he was finished, Dean helped Sam up and pulled back the covers and helped Sam to lay down.

Sam hissed as he laid down holding his arms out looking like he was getting ready to make a modified version of a snow angel.

"You need anything?" Dean couldn't help but ask, though shock was still working its way in his system.

Sam looked at Dean a little cross-eyed. "I need for you to breath", he gave a breathlessly laugh.

"I am breathing", Dean stated barely audible as he gingerly took a seat next to Sam.

"Do not do a panic attack on me."

"Sam…..I..I…I…." Dean could only choke out.

"It was an accident", Sam reassured with a slur as he began to get sleepy. He managed to clumsily throw his hand over Dean's hands sitting his lap.

Dean could only look on with tears in his eyes, shock still in his system as he watched Sam drift off the sleep.

* * *

><p>The next morning Sam woke up, and found himself stiff. He blinked and couldn't remember why he felt so stiff. But as he slowly pealed his eyes and turned his head and almost got a heart attack from seeing Dean's haggard look, he remembered. That and the dull stinging in his side was slowly reminding him. He let out a small groan.<p>

"Hey…..you alright?" Sam asked after he took a few minutes to wake up.

Dean laughed bitterly at this, "I'm not the one that got shot."

"It was an accident", Sam spoke quietly.

"An accident that should have never happened!" Dean cried, the first real emotion he has shown since all of this happened as he stood up, turning his back to Sam, running a hand through his hair. "I should have been paying attention."

"No, I should haven't have scared you like that. We are trained to react like that and I momentarily forgot."

Dean swung back around to face Sam, "No, Sam. That gun shouldn't have been loaded. I didn't even checked and Dad taught us to be alert at all times, I shouldn't have been that deep in thought. I never even should have pulled that prank the other day! I'm so stupid!" he cried banging his hand on his head.

"Dean, stop! You'll hurt yourself!" Sam cried.

"No less than I deserve!"

"Don't you dare say that! Get your butt over here and sit down!"

Dean glared down at Sam who glared up at him.

"Fine…" Sam murmured and slowly began to pull himself up. He didn't get too far as a rough but gentle hand pushed him back down. He sighed and looked up at Dean's troubled and brooding face.

"It shouldn't have happened", Dean murmured, his eyes darting away from Sam, "I'm so sorry."

**TBC….**


	4. Trying to mend

Disclaimer: Don't own the Winchesters and don't own Bobby. We all know who does, do I really have to go through this again?

A.N: This is the 2nd to the last chapter! Enjoy!

Summary: Takes place shortly after 1.17 HellHouse. The prank wars have been going on for as long as both have remembered, but what if this prank set a chain of events that went too far? Would this be the end of the prank wars?

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: Trying to mend<p>

"It shouldn't have happened", Dean murmured, his eyes darting away from Sam, "I'm so sorry."

"I know you are but there is nothing to be sorry for. It was an accident", Sam spoke softly.

Dean looked away, his eyes wet. "It started with that stupid attempt at a prank. I never should have pulled that stupid….."

"Dean, please, man, I am begging you. Don't keep mulling over that. It's okay."

"Well, this isn't!" Dean hissed as he went to stand up but Sam caught the tail end of his shirt.

"Dean, please. We need to move on from this."

"I hurt you, Sam! We can't just ignore that!" Dean cried as he ripped away from Sam and began pacing, "I could have hurt you when I pulled that stunt and I never thought about it. My entire life is about protecting you and I go and pull something like that, all because of the prank war we have. And then yesterday I shot you! I could have seriously injured you! And all the times I've dealt with guns I've never shot my baby brother. And it's a wonder no one heard that shot, but no one came to investigate, but doesn't even look like anyone is here but us and the manager way on the other end and the gunshot wasn't that loud, but still….any number of things could have happened! I wish we'd never even started the prank war!" Dean finished and flopped down in a nearby chair.

Just as quickly he realized that it was the same chair he sat in yesterday as well as the guns were still out because Dean couldn't even touch them, he jump up as if he got burned and moved to sit on his bed. All the while, Sam was silent throughout this and decided to speak after another moment of silence.

"I don't wish the prank wars didn't start. We have a lot of good memories behind that and we'll make many more."

Dean shook his head, "No, it's too dangerous. I'm not playing pranks anymore."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Yeah, about as much chance of that happening as hell freezing over."

Dean looked back at Sam, guilt written for all to see. "How can you make light of this?"

Sam sighed softly, "Because I know you would never do anything to purposely harm me."

"But I did harm you."

And what could Sam say behind that? He tried for a joke as he grinned, "Well, you finally got me back for the Asylum, at least."

Color drained from Dean's face as he stared in shock at Sam.

Once Sam realized what he said he tried to take it back, "Dean, I'm sorry. That didn't come out right. I didn't mean to imply…."

"Is…is that what you think?" Dean asked as he quickly moved to Sam's side, studying him closely, "That I did that to get back at you for what happened several month ago at that blasted Asylum?"

"No, no, Dean", Sam shook his head, "No….I didn't mean that. I was trying to joke but it came out wrong. So wrong. Never, would I think that. That's past, that's over, that's done. We came to terms with that remember."

Dean still wasn't convinced, "But why would you say that?"

Sam looked away, "I said, it was supposed to be a joke that went wrong. I'm sorry." He looked back at Dean, "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean anything by it."

"But do you really think that I would do something like that?" Dean pressed.

"No!" Sam cried and struggled to sit up but Dean's hand to his chest kept him firmly ground. He glared at his older brother, "Let me up, Dean."

"We aren't through."

"Yes, we are, cause there is nothing to talk about. We both made some mistakes these past days, now, let me up." Sam hissed his eyes flashing. He was not playing and Dean reluctantly let Sam sit up.

Sam groaned as he felt a burning sensation that flooded his body.

"We are going to Bobby's. He's not far from here." Dean spoke softly.

Sam glared at Dean, "No we aren't."

"Not up for discussion. Already called Bobby to let him know we are coming."

"What? Why? I'm fine. I'd be finer if you quite magnifying this."

Dean couldn't keep the look of guilt off his face. "We are going to Bobby's" he stated firmly.

"Well, you'll have to put away the guns if you can managed", Sam snapped and immediately for the second time today, regretted his words as Dean ducked his head as if slapped.

"I'm…." Sam groaned then paused, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I know it's no excuse to be that snappish with you, Dean."

"No…no, it's okay", Dean stood up not looking at Sam as he proceeded to take longer than necessarily securing the guns into the bag.

Sam spoke up softly after awhile of watching Dean, "The rock salt is by the door."

Dean nodded but didn't say anything as he got everything together and hauled it all to the Impala. While he was out there, situating everything, Sam gingerly through legs over the bedside to the floor. With a small breath he managed to stand up and right himself. With small motions he was able to get some new clothes and walk to the bathroom.

"Sam!" Dean called, "What are you doing?"

Sam was currently leaning in the doorway of the bathroom. "I'm gonna wash up and all of that and I'll be out and then we'll go."

Dean furrowed his brow and crossed the room, "Are you certain that….."

"Yes." Sam answered curtly before the question was complete.

"Do you need me to….?"

"No." And the door was slammed in Dean's face.

Dean didn't say anything before sunk onto the nearest bed to wait for Sam.

* * *

><p>Dean glanced at Sam who hadn't spoke since coming out of the bathroom and getting into the car. Do note that had been almost a few hours ago.<p>

"You okay? You want me to pull over and let you stretch a time or two?" Dean asked noting that Sam did look a little pale.

"No."

"Well, do you want…."

"I want you to shut up now, please", said Sam as he glared at Dean.

Dean did as he was told.

A few minutes passed before Dean spoke again, "We'll be at Bobby's shortly."

Sam just grunted and shifted in his seat. He didn't know why he was so moody now. He didn't blame Dean, really he didn't. But he just couldn't seem to shake this mood right now. And it hung over him and his brother until they got to Bobby's.

"Do you need me to….?"

"I got it", Sam cut Dean off as was his habit since this morning as he opened the door and maneuvered himself out.

Feeling guiltier by the minute, Dean slowly climbed out the car and trudged behind Sam who took his sweet time going up the stairs. Dean didn't offer his help because he knew that Sam didn't want it. The door opened and Bobby looked surprised as he stepped out and helped Sam in.

"Hey, boy, you okay?" Bobby asked, "Dean mentioned the two of you were coming, but he failed to mention that you were hurt." He glanced at the older brother who looked small as his hands were shoved into his pockets, "You aren't hurt, are you Dean?" he inquired.

Dean snapped his head up in surprise. "Oh, hey, Bobby. No, I'm not hurt."

Bobby slowly raised an eyebrow as he helped Sam to the couch. Sam gave a small smile. "Thanks. I'm okay. Just a flesh wound. More annoying than anything."

"What were you boys hunting?" Bobby asked assuming it was a hunt. He was bewildered as he saw Dean lower his glaze as he leaned in the doorway, not coming into the room. Sam looked uncomfortable at this question.

"So, how have you been doing, Bobby? Everything all silent, for the moment?" Sam asked.

Bobby's eyes narrowed, "I know you are trying to change the subject. Nice try, but what happened?"

Sam glanced at Dean who was looking down at his feet.

"If someone doesn't tell me what's going on, I will go get my shotgun", Bobby threatened.

"I shot him." Came a lone voice that was soft but seemed too loud in the room.

Bobby looked at Dean. "I'm sure it was an accident…."

"That's what I've been trying to tell him", Sam cried ecstatic that Bobby echoed his words. Bobby glanced between the brothers.

"No, it wasn't." Dean mumbled.

"You shot him on purpose?" Bobby asked, "What the devil were you two hunting?"

"We weren't hunting anything, Bobby!" Dean snapped finally, his head jerking up, guilt still stamped on his face as his eyes were wet.

Sam sighed, "Can you put a shot in him? He's been on this for the last two and a half days!"

"No one is shooting anyone right now", Bobby said seriously.

"It….I…..it started with a prank", Dean muttered.

"Dean….leave it…." Sam started.

Bobby snapped, "Shut up, Sam!" He was trying to get an understanding here. Bobby glared at Sam before looking back expectantly at Dean.

Dean swallowed and started again, "It started with a prank…." And he explained what happened from that point up until now. He swallowed and lowered his glaze, like a child awaiting punishment.

"You really are an idjit", Bobby stated finally.

Dean's shoulders slumped.

"Bobby, come on, it was an accident", Sam tried to defend Dean.

"I know that, we all know that, but it doesn't dismiss the fact that he made a dumb move", Bobby growled.

Sam couldn't say anything to that.

Dean lifted his glaze, "I know I messed up", he looked at Sam, "And I am sorry. Really sorry. I didn't mean to."

Bobby looked at Sam who didn't answer for a long while, "I know you didn't." Then he looked at Bobby, "You, uh…got anything to snack on?"

Bobby nodded and walked by Dean into the kitchen to fix something for both of them. Dean slowly made his way and sat down next to Sam. He left wide berth like he was scared of touching Sam.

"Dean…."Sam started, looking up at his older brother.

Dean looked at Sam who opened his mouth, then closed it. He paused, then opened his mouth again and closed it. Finally he looked back down at his lap. "Nothing", he dismissed.

Dean just looked back at his own lap.

**TBC….**


	5. Beginning Again

Disclaimer: Don't own the Winchesters and don't own Bobby. We all know who does, do I really have to go through this again?

A.N: Last chapter! Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!

Summary: Takes place shortly after 1.17 HellHouse. The prank wars have been going on for as long as both have remembered, but what if this prank set a chain of events that went too far? Would this be the end of the prank wars?

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><p>Chapter 5: Beginning Again<p>

Dean sat channel surfing on Bobby's TV in the living room. Sam was upstairs laying down. They had both eaten a short while ago and then Dean escorted Sam upstairs to lay down for awhile. Absently he flipped through the channels, though inside, guilt was plaguing his mind.

And he couldn't get Sam's "joke" out of his head. He kept searching himself wondering if some part of himself was trying to pay back Sam for something that happened seemingly a long time ago. He hadn't even really thought about the incident at the Asylum that much anymore, so he didn't do for that reason.

Did he?

Dean wanted to believe the he didn't. But he couldn't seem to shake it off.

"You really need to stop abusing my TV set and get your behind up there and talk to your brother", came a gruff voice.

Dean looked up at Bobby who stepped into the room and snatched the remote out of Dean's hand. Dean sighed. "Bobby…."

"We both know that Sam isn't asleep. Plus it's just going on six o'clock. Get your behind up those stairs."

Dean looked at Bobby who glared down at him. "Do I need to go get my shotgun?" he asked.

It made Dean huffed but he did get up off the couch and slowly trudge out the door into the hall and up the stairs, slower than he needed too. By the time he got to the close door, he had butterflies in his stomach. He turned to go back downstairs but he knew that Bobby would just harass him, so hesitantly, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

"Yeah?"

Sam was surprised to see his older brother peak his head in. "Can I come in?" Dean asked hesitantly.

"Of course", Sam gave a small smile, "It's your room to, you know."

Dean eased on in, barely opening the door enough for him to squeeze in. He eased up to his bed and sat down, almost as if he was afraid to sit on his own bed facing Sam who was prone in his bed.

"Dean….please", Sam murmured, "We need to get over this. It's okay."

"Can you answer me a question?" Dean turned questioning eyes to his younger brother, who nodded.

"Sam…..do you really think that I would hurt you as payback for something that happened months ago?" Dean asked seriously.

Sam kept his eyes locked with his older brother's. "Dean, I didn't mean it. I've been moody since yesterday but I didn't mean such a thing. I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't said it. It was suppose to be a joke, but it wasn't. It isn't. I shouldn't have said such a thing."

"And you know I didn't mean to hurt you. I can't get it out of mind. If it had been a few inches to the left as I was turning around I could have seriously hurt you. And I shouldn't have been that deep in my thoughts. Dad taught us better than that. More than anything, I shouldn't have pulled that prank in the first place."

"I know all of this, Dean. Please, don't let it upset you anymore."

Dean lowered his glaze, "It'll take awhile for me to get over it."

"Just as long as you don't have a guilt complex."

"You know I already do."

"I know." A pause, "Dean."

"Hm?"

"I don't want this to change anything. You've been walking on eggshells around me for that last while, and I don't want that."

Dean just shrugged.

"Dean, I don't want you get fearful that if you touch me I'll break or something stupid like that. I'm fine. I shouldn't have sneaked up on you. I probably should have slammed the door or something like that to get your attention."

"I should have checked to make sure the gun wasn't loaded in the first place."

"It was a mistake, people make them. You aren't perfect."

"When it comes to you, I should be", Dean spoke looking at Sam.

Sam eyes grew soft, "I know you want to be. But you can't. It's not possible. And that's okay. You always protect me."

"And I always will."

"I know."

Silence drifted for awhile between them.

It was broken by Sam's chuckle.

Dean looked up at Sam with questioning eyes, "What?"

Sam had a grin on his face but shook his head, "Nothing."

"You sure?" Dean asked seriously.

"Positive."

Dean blinked and didn't think anything of it anymore.

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><p>"Thanks, Bobby. If this doesn't get him out of his funk, I don't know what will", Sam smiled at the older man, as he set a bag on the kitchen counter.<p>

Bobby grunted, "He still depressed?"

"No, he's just…careful. Too careful, you know?"

It had been a week since they arrived at Bobby's and Sam was feeling as if he was getting back to normal. His side was still sore if he tried to do acrobatics or something, but other than that it wasn't bad. It was Dean however that was beginning to get on Sam's nerves.

Dean still didn't walk quite on eggshells after their talk but he was always hovering and eyeing Sam. Always treating him like fragile china. Sam for his part, put up with it for a week knowing it was Dean's way of dealing but it was time to move on….before Sam wrapped his hands around his older brother's neck for being so annoying.

Accidentally, of course.

He had thought of it a week ago and decided this would be perfect to help Dean out of this.

"Yeah, I noticed", Bobby said, "I'll be out in the junkyard if you need me."

Sam nodded, "Okay, thanks."

Bobby walked out the door as Sam pulled the package out of the bag. A whole apple pie. Sam smiled and pulled it out of the package and cut a small piece of Dean and then himself. Then he lifted his head up and looked around before grabbing one of the two cans and squeezing the white fluff on top of Dean's. Then he took one of the cans and put it under the sink. He looked around again with a smile as he got out two forks.

"Dean!" He called as he set the table, "Hey, Dean!"

"Yeah?" Dean called back as he walked down the stairs.

"I had Bobby get you your favorite." Sam gestured to the table.

He was rewarded with Dean's eyes lightening up as he made a bee line for the table and plopped down. He inhaled and Sam rolled his eyes good-naturally.

"You two are too good to me", Dean murmured as he picked up his fork.

Sam took his own seat and lifted his own fork. "Eat up", he smiled as he took a bit of his own apple pie.

Dean looked up at Sam, a glint that hadn't been in his eyes for while, shining, "Let me take care of this, please. I have to appreciate such beauty."

"It's not a busty woman, Dean. It's food. Wait, who the heck am I talking to?" Sam snorted.

"You're right, who the heck are you talking to?" Dean mocked. He looked back down at his plate turning it around, "I mean, I have to appreciate that you even put whip cream on top of mine. That's love right there. Real and true love."

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes again.

"Wait, hold up!" Dean spoke suddenly lifting his hand up, making Sam pause and look up at Dean who was eyeing his pie critically. He poked at it with his fork.

Sam pressed his lips together hard before asking steadily, "What?"

Dean sat back and glared at his younger brother.

"What?" Sam repeated.

"Don't you know that I like my piece to be a big size? You know that. Why the devil did you give me a mini size?"

Sam relaxed. "Dean, A. If you want some more, you can get some more and B. I thought this would be a small desert. You could have a big piece after dinner."

Dean looked pointedly at Sam, "I better."

Sam coughed once before taking another bite of his pie. He watched as Dean took his first bite savoring it. Sam opened his mouth to ask if it was good, but found he couldn't as Dean took another bite with a small dab of whip cream.

Only….

Dean chewed slowly before swallowing. He smacked his lips together and frowned before he took another bit with a nice size of whip cream on it before all of a sudden he spit it out. Sam couldn't contain it anymore and burst out laughing, slapping his hands on the table, tears leaking out of his eyes.

"The heck?" Dean cried taking a napkin and wiping his tongue. "Ugh, this isn't whip cream! This is shaving cream!"

Loud guffaws resounded in the room as Dean looked on in shock at his younger brother.

Sam laughed, "Whoo….you shoulda see your face."

Dean looked down at his plate, "That's why you sliced a small piece so you could mess it up with shaving cream!"

"Yeah!" Sam took another bite of his food.

Dean looked a little hurt. "I thought we said we were done with the prank war."

"No, I didn't say that." Sam shook his head, "You said you were done with the prank war. That had nothing to do with me", he answered waving his fork around.

Dean frowned, "Well, we shouldn't do it anymore. It's not funny."

Sam sat back and looked at Dean, "Look, so you made one mistake."

"That lead to another."

"Fine, but the prank war is how many years old?"

"About eight."

"About eight, and it all that time, when has something seriously gone wrong?" Sam asked.

Dean couldn't answer.

"Exactly, I don't want to stop this infamous war, it's fun. I mean we have lots of fun pulling pranks on each other, don't we?"

Dean relented, "Yeaaaaa…."

"Right and besides, you've been so careful this past week, it's working my nerves, Dean. You're brother and I know you feel guilty but this has got to stop, man. And I thought it would be fun. I don't want to lose the fun comrade we have."

Dean smiled lightly, "Me neither."

"So, let's put this behind us. We both know that we'd never hurt the other purposely. And I'm fine. Can we get over this, please? I mean I'm the brooding one, not you." Sam grinned.

Dean suddenly grinned back, "Yeah, that is your department and you do it, oh so well."

"Shut. Up."

Dean laughed.

"Sooo…." Sam wagged his eyebrows, "You cannot tell me that wasn't a good prank right there?"

Dean laughed, "I knew you had a kinky thing with shaving cream."

"Naw, no, that's you. I remember someone murmuring in their sleep while kissing the shaving cream. What you murmuring is too raunchy for my delicate ears but there is a reason why you end up covered in it." Sam barked a laugh, "Besides, it's a classic of mine. When in doubt go for the shaving cream."

"Why you little….." Dean trailed off. He folded his arms, "B****"

"Jerk!" Sam shot back.

"I'll get you back, you know that?"

"I know, and I look forward to it", Sam smirked standing up and putting his empty plate in the sink. He turned around and held up his hands in a come-hither gesture, "Bring. It. On."

"Consider is brought", Dean snorted.

Sam made a face at Dean before leaning on the table next to him, "Be glad I didn't do the fish in the Impala. You lucked out because I was seriously considering that."

Dean glared at Sam, "No, little brother. You lucked out. Cause I would have had to kill you for doing such a thing and that would have been a tragedy right there."

"I'm sure." Sam pushed off the table to drifted outside. He called back before the door closed, "Remember I'm looking forward to your payback. Don't shriek on me now."

Dean chuckled.

Maybe the prank wars wasn't the bad thing. He just had a lapse in judgment and that he wouldn't have again. They did have a lot of fun.

But now to think of what to get his awesome, big, little brother back. He looked down at his pie shaving cream.

Then he was grinning.

Sam seemed to love his shaving cream, wonder if he's love it after this was over. He'd have to think carefully on a game plan. He'd sleep on it tonight.

So he did.

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><p>Sam wrinkled his nose at his computer screen. Bobby was sitting across from him as they were researching some things. Bobby looked up as Sam let out a gasp and his face went beet red.<p>

"I'm GONNA KILL HIM!" Sam screeched making Bobby jump.

A loud laugh followed as Sam jumped out of his seat and chased Dean out the door into the junkyard. Bobby blinked and turned Sam's computer around. He tilted his head, way over to the side.

"Huh…..don't know how she can do that." He jumped and shut the computer screen down, his face turning red, "Hmm…..that's too much, right there."

He nodded and got up to refill his coffee. He could hear Sam yelling at Dean and Dean laughing as he darted in and out of the cars, trying not to get himself killed.

Bobby sighed, "Well, at least things are back to normal."

He heard a clatter in the yard and sighed again, "I should make sure they don't break anything of substance." He murmured before walking out the door to referee.

Though secretly he wouldn't have it any other way.

But three days later, he regretted that sentiment. He should have realized that something was up when Sam came down early in the morning with a grin and purposely settled himself so that he could get out the door, which he made sure was unlocked before he seated.

Dean mumbled as he turned over his bed. He began sniffing and his face twisted, as he hugged something to him. When he opened his eyes, he fell out of his bed with an expletive, letting go of what he holding.

When he was able to get his bearings, he righted himself on the floor, kneeling as he leaned on the bed looking at what was in said bed.

A dead fish.

He blinked at it's dead eyes looking up at him.

Dean started gagging before he stood up.

Next thing Bobby heard was Dean yelling, "SAMMMMMY, I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Sam laughed and was out the door before the sentence even finished. Bobby blinked as Dean came down with naught but his boxers and shirt. Somewhere he managed to put on some shoes as he chased Sam out the door.

"What the…." Bobby stared out the swinging door. He let out a sigh. "I'm gonna need to get them to call a truce up in here."

**Fin. **

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><p>A.N: Thanks for reading and another thanks to HotShow for the plot idea. This was so much fun to write! Especially this last chapter! It was fun to write a S1 story and write about the good days where life was simpler than what we got going on now. lol Not that I don't enjoy the later seasons, but it's nice to just be on cruise control like they used to be.<p>

I hope it was satisfactory! I might would have had something more happen and Sam ending in the hospital but that seemed a little much and it just wrote itself out this way.

Hope you all enjoyed!


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